


maxlet? it's more likely than you think

by ricciardos



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Crack, M/M, i present: max with a mullet, the gc asked and i delivered
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:47:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25259464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ricciardos/pseuds/ricciardos
Summary: “You look like a homeless Kermit. In the most uncool way possible.”“Well, I don’t care. It’s for charity.”It’s also to get Daniel’s attention in the most lowly way possible, but Max supposes that killing two birds with one stone isn’t theworstthing in the world.
Relationships: Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen
Comments: 15
Kudos: 71





	maxlet? it's more likely than you think

It’s not that Max hates it, per se. 

It’s just- 

He stares at the bathroom mirror of his motorhome, twisting his neck left and right to get a better look at himself. 

It’s just _different_. 

He tentatively touches the base of his neck where the strands have laid gently to rest, the ends tickling a little. 

Well. 

This is something. 

The brown looks out of place against the paleness of his neck, and he can already hear Christian in his head telling him to chop it off immediately. 

Max has never been one for bullshit. He tells it as it is, when it should be told as it. 

And truth be told? 

Max is kind of digging it.

-

It all started when Daniel posted that goddamn story 2 weeks into quarantine. 

Maybe it was the fact that Max had been quarantined alone for almost 2 weeks with no end in sight. Or maybe, it was Max’s disgustingly loud and proud competitive streak that never seemed to catch a break, even with no season in sight. 

Or most likely: it was the fact that Daniel hadn’t sent him a single text since the start of quarantine. 

_“Hi there guys, hope everyone is doing well-”_

Daniel was doing well, out on a farm in the middle of nowhere. Max, alone in his cramped up overpriced apartment? Not so much. 

_“I’m sure as you all know, the coronavirus has devastated small wildlife organisations across Perth that rely on donations to keep their services open.”_

On cue, a sheep comes into the screen and nearly bites off a lock of Daniel’s hair. Max can’t help but laugh as Daniel screams as the story ends, his screen sliding to the next one.

_“So, to raise funds for the Kare Koala Foundation, I won’t be cutting my hair until the season starts… whenever it starts. For every day after today, I’ll be donating $100 for every one who does it with me.”_

Max feels himself sit upright, his eyebrows flicking so far up he can feel the tension in his forehead. 

Daniel? In a man bun?

_The fucker,_ he thinks in disbelief. 

There’s one more story to go, and he’s almost afraid of what it’s going to say.

(More accurately: he’s both terrified and curious to see if Daniel will nominate him for it.) 

“To get the ball- or _balls,_ depending on what you’re into- rolling, I’ll be nominating Michael Italiano and Scotty James! Happy brushing everyone, and stay safe.”

The screen fades back to Daniel’s main Instagram page, and Max is left alone in his Monaco home with something _suspiciously_ hard at his down under and a growing sense of indignation in his stomach. 

-

He walks into the paddock just before his scheduled interviews, meeting his publicist at the entrance. Max doesn’t really pay him any mind as he runs through the commitments for the day, choosing instead to focus on the strands sticking stubbornly out of his Red Bull Cap. 

For the first time in his life, he’s really considering taking the damn cap off and just letting his hair run free. It’s getting kind of stuffy anyway. 

He’s _seriously_ thinking about the possibility, only to realise his publicist has stopped dead in his tracks and he’s walking alone. 

“What’s wrong?”

“What’s _that?_ ”

Max tugs at the base of his neck, pulling the unruly strands into place so they cascade down the base of his neck, watching in amusement as his publicist struggles to form a coherent sentence.  
“What do you think it is?”

“It’s a _mullet_ , Max.” 

“I’m aware.”

At this juncture, Max quite enjoys being able to take the piss out on his publicist. Technically, he’s soon-to-be World Champion, Max Verstappen. 

Realistically, nothing that the team says will make him change it. 

“You look like a homeless Kermit. In the most uncool way possible.” 

“Well, I don’t care. It’s for charity.”

It’s also to get Daniel’s attention in the most lowly way possible, but Max supposes that killing two birds with one stone isn’t the _worst_ thing in the world. 

At the back, he can hear the snapping of a camera shuttle and he knows it’s probably one of the paddock photographers, preparing to release Mullet Max to the rest of the world. 

(If they do, that’s his secondary goal achieved. Primary goal is of course, charity.) 

(What was the organisation again?) 

-

The pictures hit Twitter before day’s end. 

_6 weeks of quarantine, and Max comes out looking like Billy Ray Cyrus in the worst way possible._

_[screenshot of a Tumblr post that photoshopped Max into a mullet] IM A FUCKING NOSTRADAMUS_

_I bet he did this for Dan LMAOO_

He likes the last tweet and goes to sleep. It appears that even with long hair, his decision making skills don’t grow along with it. 

-

Max wakes up to 5000 twitter notifications and a single solitary text from Daniel. 

_You could have just called me if you wanted the attention, babe._

Max lets out a scoff, before fighting to keep the inevitable grin off his face at the thought that- 

Perhaps, Max Verstappen always gets what he wants. 

_It’s for charity, no?_

**Author's Note:**

> the gc asked and i delivered: happy reading lads it's been manifested 
> 
> find me on tumblr @ricciardo-and-gang


End file.
